


Sketch

by Raiden



Series: Sketch [1]
Category: Homestuck, karsol - Fandom, sollux and karkat, sollux captor and Karkat Vantas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-04-07
Updated: 2012-06-06
Packaged: 2017-11-07 03:05:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/426251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raiden/pseuds/Raiden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The beginning where 'they' meet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Homestuck](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/5905) by Andrew Hussie. 



> I wanted to try writing something. This is the introduction to a Homestuck um, fanfiction I suppose. The trolls are more like typical humans, and so is the setting. I plan to throw in things from Alternia. This is a rather short introduction, and the following chapters are considered short as well.
> 
> I don't own Homestuck. I did this for fun. Contains questionable language, so if you can't handle some cursing, please don't read. Thank you.

A disgruntling monotone beep rang through my head, and all my senses snapped back into action. Slapping the alarm clock off I sat up. Pain shot through my temples, pulsating with the heartbeat from my throbbing chest. A gurgle of a groan escaped my throat,  


“Fffffuuuuuuuck shit damn…”  


The television buzzed with static, must have left it on and fallen asleep while watching shitty soap operas I craved. Looks like the cable bill was due last night. That or the weather finally sucker punched the wimpy satellite which was strategically placed in our front yard (Mother insisted it had better signal there).  
I glanced at the bottle still in my grasp while wiping the drool away from the side of my face. Mother never noticed when I took them from her stash, and she probably would throw a bitch fit for a couple hours then forget if she ever caught me if she managed to do so. But none the less, I shoved the empty container under the couch when I noticed the time. Staggering to put on decent clothing that didn’t smell of spilt alcohol, the mirror in the bathroom showed how brilliant of a barber the couch arm rest was. I told it to go fuck itself and threw on my shoes, then grabbed my pack full of school papers, and slammed the door closed. The trek down the hall and then down the stairs was parentless. Locking the door behind me, the rain pattered against the ground outside. No time to grab an umbrella though. Various fucks shouted in my mind as I pulled the collar of my hoodless jacket up around my neck. Fucking perfect. Shoe laces untied. Burps tasted like underage hangover. And I wasn’t old enough to buy cigarettes.  


I greeted the bus with a sprint, and the usual bus driver with the usual ticket, and …wait, my usual seat was taken by some punk ass hipster. I sent him a ‘fuck you’ glare. Him and his purple streaked hair and blue scarf, looking all chill and clueless that he’s sitting in my fucking seat. Fuckass doesn’t even know how to color code right, I mean, come on! He’s wearing a purple coat that doesn’t even match anything else! The least he could do is wear the same color scheme. I surveyed my own wardrobe from my newly picked seat in front of some prissy business mother fucker. Black collared zip up jacket, simple grey shirt, black dyed jeans, and kick ass converse designed with checkered patterns and anime styled faces. I mentally patted myself on the back. With a cough I was reminded of the pummeling I received from some fuckers I picked a fight with yesterday. They got me pretty good in the ribs, and I just hoped that bruising was all that was wrong with them.  


The rain created streams of water along the windows and rivers in the street gutters. Its rhythmic pattern was accompanied by the sliding of the windshield wipers, as well as the snoring from the back of the bus. I gazed out the window, staring at the familiar dreary scenery. Up the hill. Down the hill. By some more houses. Round the corner. Tada. X marks the spot.  
When I flopped out of the bus I as greeted by the same old college campus. The air smelled of the new quarter. Students were rushing to classes and I really should have been doing the same, but instead, I sauntered to where I thought my first class should be. I yawned as I opened the class door. Climbing the two stories to get there wore me out.  


“Karkat Ventas?” The person standing at the front of the class called.  


“Here.” I grumbled in an annoyed tone. All eyes followed me to the seat at the very back of the class room, where I took my seat. As more names were called, the attention slowly drifted back to the front of the room. Except one gaze of a young student like myself. He wore a pair of brimmed glasses and wore a yellow pullover with the number two on the front. I scowled and flipped him off. Instead of turning around like I wanted, he adjusted his glasses with his middle finger and stuck out his tongue at me before fixating his attention at the teacher. My interest peaked. We got a feisty fucker here, guys. Put your bunnies back in their boxes.


	2. Chapter 1.5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonding time, how cute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm even more unsure about this one than the last 'chapter' I wrote. 
> 
> But I couldn't sleep all night because I was too busy thinking about the story line and where it's going to go. So I just had to write it! ( :  
> I don't own Homestuck.   
> I wrote this for fun. 
> 
> Heads up, there's cursing in this, don't read if you're sensitive to it. Next 'chapter' will be in Sollux's view point.

The class ticked by as slow as the second hand on the clock would carry it. I was lost in daydreams about romantic twists most of the class, and couldn’t recall exactly what class I was even in. Didn’t matter though, because once the bell rang there was no point in knowing anyways. With only three classes in the day, I ventured to my next one. I took every opportunity to swear at people who stepped on my untied shoe laces. The air in the halls seemed to be spiked with enthusiasm because everyone was basically shouting. Or maybe that was the hangover being my personal hearing amplifier. 

“Fuck.” I mumbled under my breath. 

Next class was art. Mother signed me up for this one, what a bitch. She just couldn’t seem to get her artistic appreciative ass out of my life style. It might be a required class but I didn’t care enough to look into it, I wasn’t paying for it after all. Basically kicking the door down, I entered the artsy fartsy room, walls covered with visual posters and numerous anatomy sketches. Gross. I felt like I was being repelled out of the room by bug spray made for people like me that suck at art and creativity. Standing in front of the door was a bad idea. I was shoved forward with a door knob in my side, caught off guard. I stumbled a bit, regaining my composure, and glared in the direction the force came from. The fucker from earlier with his piss colored pullover still had his hand on the door knob that was used to open the door from the outside hallway. Attention just seemed to be attracted to me more than usual today because as I began yelling, people in the classroom actually turned and stared. 

“Hey fuckass, watch it!” 

The dark haired fucker twisted his snake bite piercings with his tongue with a slight smirk. Was that a split tongue? How did you not see that before? No, no, that’s not important right now. 

“Don’t fucking smile at me like that, I’ll put a fucking door through your fucking face!” The boy snorted at my retort. He looked down at me, (seems like everyone does because I’m so fucking short for a dude. I’m as tall as most of the girls…) and adjusted his glasses with his middle finger yet again. Was this a habit of his, or was it meant just for me? 

“Don’t thand iin front of doorth thiit face, they open and hiit little thiitth like you.” 

I felt my face become flushed with the rage boiling inside me now. This guy earned my one free ticket give away to hell. He even had a fucking lisp, gog damn it, I just got owned by a smart ass fucker. It took me moments to realize that the loud growling noise that sounded like a familiar swear word, was coming from my mouth, not just my mind. Slamming my pack down on a table, I chose a seat. The teacher sat reading his book. He wore the face of ‘I-hate-my-life-and-this-job-and-I-stopped-giving-a-fuck-when-I-was-suppose-to-retire’. Looks like he really wouldn’t give a shit if I swore because he hadn’t kicked me out yet. Cool I guess. 

The fuckass with a lisp had been waved over to a seat by another girl my age. She seemed to have a thing for the color pink…and jewelry. Even her glasses were pink, gog. She seemed rather flirty, twisting her hair with her index finger and giggling in a little school girl kind of way as they talked. Lisp boy didn’t seem all that interested though, he got his laptop out right on cue with the start of class as she kept talking to him. The teacher got up from his seat and scratched his white beard, then his beer belly, and introduced himself to the class in a monotone manner. He said something about what the class was all about and shit, but I was too busy shooting the rubber bands I had (I stash them in my pack) at Lisp boy and his Pink girl-friend. Once he began to notice, he started shooting them back at me. It was a very productive two hours. 

As expected, the rest of my academic day was a bore. As I attended the last class, shitty history, a huge study book was forced upon me. It became my new pillow for the next two hours. School has never been my thing. I’m only taking these college classes through my high school’s running start program to avoid all the hormones flying through the air in high school atmospheres. At least the Lisp boy wasn’t in this class to drive my I-want-to-sucker-punch-this-fucker instinct. 

As I boarded the bus for the trip back home, I recognized a yellow hooded number two sweatshirt walking by the bus on the sidewalk. I raised both hands, middle fingers extended from fists, and stuck out my tongue, and as the bus began to slowly pull away, he looked up and returned the gesture. 

Round the corner. Past some houses. Up the hill. Down the hill. Walk home. I tugged my sopping clothes off at the doorway, they made a disgusting slopping noise as they hit the floor. Sounded like Mother was in the living room watching something with various sex noises, probably anime. I dragged my pack up the stairs as I felt my skin prickle from how chilly it was in this house, walking around in boxers isn’t something I’m use to I guess. And Mother usually feels warm from drinking, so she turns the air-conditioning on even when it’s snowing outside. Thank gog winter just got over. 

But when I laid down on my couch (because my bed was covered in clothes), I began to drift off into sleep, not thinking about the cold. But instead…thinking about the boy in the yellow sweatshirt.


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a view point from Sollux!   
> I just HAD to have chapter 2 be for Sollux.  
> I don't own homestuck.  
> I did this for fun.
> 
> There is cursing in this series.

The streets were lined with dead worms and small bits of trees that had broken off in the wind. I walked slowly along the path to the cross walk. The feeling of the rain hitting my hood and shoulders made my attitude even more agitated. I had promised Feferi that I’d wait after school for her, but all I felt like doing was getting home and out of this shitty weather. Besides, Feferi was always so energetic, she’d catch up with me in no time. Sure enough, a girly voice called to me in the distance, 

“Soooooollllllluuuuux! How could you leave without me! You promised!” She whined as she ran up to my side, jewelry bouncing in all directions because of her unzipped pink raincoat. Silly girl wore a frilly pink sundress and blue leggings with flats, why wasn’t she soaked already? 

“Thorry Fiissh. I’m tiired and want to resst.” 

“Ooooohhh it’s okay Lux! If you were tired why you didn’t just say so silly!” No matter what I seemed to do, she always forgave me right away after whining or scolding me. She seemed to have a soft spot for me ever since we met, for what reason, I wasn’t sure. I think…she must have been lonely. 

I spent the rest of my walk home listening to Feferi talk all about her day, glossy eyed and bubbly. My shoes scraped against the side walk, I’d stepped on five worms already. Feferi noticed. 

“Lux, you wore mismatching shoes again! They’re black and white! How’d you mix those up?” 

“II wass iin a russh thiith morning.” The truth was that I actually wore one white shoe and one black shoe because I liked to, not because of my colorblindness which Feferi was referring to. I was born with Anomalous Trichromacy, otherwise known as just Trichromacy. So all the colors others see are various shades of red, blue, and shades in between them. To me, my ‘yellow’ sweatshirt looked light pink, kind of like a tongue. Even though my family has the money to get the fancy eye treatment of sorts, I’ve always seen like this, and I would rather keep it that way. 

When we reached Feferi’s house we parted at the driveway. She smiled enthusiastically and waved like one of those princesses you see on the shitty news station broadcasts, I gave a half-ass wave and continued on my way. Shit. My clothes were soaked through. 

I walked down the street, and as I opened the door to my house I started thinking about my day. My new classes were shitty. Except for art, and that interesting shit face I ‘met’. Messing with him sure was fun, his sporadic attitude was quite noticeable. We looked the same age though. And his outfit was the easiest one on my eyes all day: it was basically one dark purple color. Quite a relief from all the shitty tornadoes of off-shaded clothes I usually see around that campus. It’s like everyone else walks up to a red and blue monster and gets thrown up on. I was kind of embarrassed when I caught myself staring at him this morning, gog. 

I left a trail of clothes and my school bag as I made my way down the hall toward the kitchen. My adopted parents had made the house color friendly to my sight, simple blues, reds, and deep reds. The kitchen was my second favorite room in the place besides my own, it was basic blue. And also had shit loads of food. The bottle of citrus carbonated syrup made a fizzing noise as I unscrewed the cap. 

“Don’t fuckiing thmiile at me liike that, II’ll put a fuckiing door through your fuckiing face!” I said in a snobby voice to imitate the shit face from earlier. I felt a smirk spread across my face. Aw, shit, can’t wait to mess that kids shit up tomorrow two…wait…I mean ‘too’. 

Clicking my tongue against the roof of my mouth I made my way to my room. Placing my glasses on my bed side table, I took a swig of soda, and flopped down onto the bed. I burped. It tasted like oranges. I rolled over and stuffed my face into my pillow. Gog damn, that guys voice won’t get out of my head! Telling me to fuck off, it makes me feel like it’s a challenge to get even closer. 

As I lay there, it didn’t occur to me that I had just accepted: Accepted the challenge that would change me. Shit was about to get real.


End file.
